Books
Books call to me from the shelves
Whispering my name
They comfort me when my own story
Is too much for me to handle
They murmur, "It's okay, it's okay"
They reach out, take me by the hand
Show me things incredible, impossible
They hold me tight and keep me safe
They race with me through the story
Until the story ends and they must let me go
I cry for them not to leave, but they smile gently
"It's okay," they whisper, "we'll still be here"
I am sad that the ride is over
But comforted by their words
Books are like gods
They may end, but they never die
















Comments
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YUP. 'FRAID SO!!
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time for no good reason.
<33s you
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Strawberries and Honey <3
Hmm... a song... y'know, I actuall DO write songs...
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~*~*~
I am a shoebox with wings
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